Page 16 of Check Me Out

“Mr G, you’d better stay still for a moment while we check you out—” I began to say.

But the old man was already on his knees and reaching for my arm to help him to his feet.

“No need for fuss,” he grunted.

“Gerald, what the hell is going on?” came a high-pitched voice from the end of the aisle. “Lina says you’re on your back between baby carrots and cake toppings.” An elderly woman I assumed was Mrs G came hurrying up to us, her hair captured in a severebun, and her sensible shoes squeaking on the flooring. Lina was beside her, and behindherwas the store manager, Tamara Blackthorn, complete with pursed lips and angry frown.

“Fuck,” Pips muttered as he caught sight of her.

But Mr G pushed in front of us both and started trying to schmooze Tamara. “Everything’s fine,” he soothed her. “Just too many people all clustered around. I slipped on my own damn trouser hem, and brought down the Demo table on top of me. Gladys will soon sort me out, I’ll be right as rain.”

Tamara didn’t look reassured. To be honest, nor would I be, with a blustering pensioner in front of me, smiling through his crooked dentures and with ghastly red stains all down his front. A few curious spectators still hovered at the end of the aisle. All we needed now was someone to film it for TikTok and the humiliation for YBB would be complete.

“I think you should take him home, Gladys,” Tamara said sharply to Mrs G. “Right now. And he shouldn’t come in again.”

“For a couple of days,” Mr G protested quickly. “Just while I get over the shock of my own silly clumsiness.”

“A week,” Tamara said firmly. It sounded like a negotiation.

I was distracted by Pips tugging at my sleeve. He’d crouched back down, mopping at the mess, or maybe hiding from Tamara.

“Give me a cloth?”

I scooped up some towels Lina had brought over and handed them down to him.

“Thanks, fellow minion,” he grinned. And he sent me a very warm look when I knelt again, to help him clean up.

5

Marcus

“Will this be a problem for the store?” I whispered, on my knees beside Pips as we finished mopping. I glanced secretly at Tamara, who was currently running interference with a couple of customers demanding access to the tins of sardines. And rightnow, they insisted.

“What?” Pips frowned. “It’s just a spillage. We get them every day.”

“No, because there’s been an accident to a member of staff. Though Tamara is being generous, giving Mr G a week off.”

“Oh hell, Mr G doesn’t work here,” Pips said.

“What? But he’s wearing a YBB uniform. And his wife—”

“Oh, yeah. Mrs G does. Mr G just comes in and potters around, helping out here and there. Mainly mis-shelving stuff we have to rearrange later. And yeah, I know it looks odd,” he hurried on, obviously seeing my eyebrows rise. “He likes the uniform, says it keeps him clean and tidy and is easy to wash. There speaks a man who’s never worn silk underwear, right?”

I swallowed hard again, but this time at the thought of Pips in silk briefs. Pips,showingme his silk briefs.Oh my God. I took a quick, restoring breath. “What about the health and safety issue? And there’s the matter of public liability…”

“Not that it’s any concern of yours,” Pips said rather snippily, “but we all keep an eye on him. And he causes less disruption than some of the more badly-behaved customers who pick stuff and squeeze it out of shape, or dump an unwanted cabbage on top of the croissants.” His voice was tight and climbing higher. “Or ram their trolleys into the freezer cabinet and leave the door open, so all the ice cream goes soft and leaks out in a pool of sticky, smelly, mushy—”

I put my hand gently on Pips’ arm. “It’s okay, I get the picture. You’re just worried about Mr G. I understand.”

Pips gave a heartfelt sigh, sat back on his heels, and glanced ruefully at me. “Way to make a good first impression, right? Getting in such a bloody state. I’ll understand if you didn’t want to go for a drink with me after all.”

I smiled. I might have blushed. “Well, I’m still here.”

“You sweetheart.” His expression was surprised but also grateful. “I’ll meet you at the staff room—”

“Pips!” came Tamara’s voice, much nearer than before.

Hell’s bells. We both stood, with a glance over to where Lina and Shanaz were helping wipe down the remnants of soup on Mr G’s cardigan, while Mrs G hissed disappointment in her husband’s ear.

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